Permanence
by Faith Ren
Summary: Time to take away Rey's comfort, as she had taken away his. It was time to make her vulnerable, as she had made him. He would take her for his own as the Supreme Leader had instructed. As Ren made his presence known, he could feel her subconscious cower in terror. His chest expanded with a powerful sense of strength and ownership, and a smile passed his lips. Now, she was his.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

 _No tree, it is said, can grow to heaven, unless its roots reach down to hell._

* * *

 _Snoke._

The blood in her veins turned to boiling ice, and she involuntarily shuddered.

Kylo Ren noticed. He noticed everything.

He turned his head toward her as they strode silently side-by-side down the seemingly endless hallway, their boots clacking against the exact and unforgiving black tile of the Star Destroyer. Ren's emotions, as always, were inarticulate and safely cloaked under the inhuman mask he religiously donned when appearing in public. It was an intelligent prop: she knew well enough by now that his face, when bare, gave away everything.

"You're afraid," he said simply.

She almost rolled her eyes in exasperation – not _this_ again. And of course she was afraid.

Afraid to have her mind violated. Afraid to fail. Afraid to succumb to his will…

"Interesting."

"What?" Rey asked more accusatorily than she would have liked. She squared her jaw and clenched her teeth, remembering the concern Master Skywalker had for her penchant to speak rashly, without considering the resulting consequences.

Ren shook his head slightly, and she knew she would get no answer.

His strides had slowed, and she was internally grateful; she had needed to almost jog to keep up with him as they walked, acutely aware of how child-like she appeared, skipping along next to Ren's tall, slender frame.

Ren suddenly stopped altogether, and Rey found herself facing a curved threshold with no ingress. She squinted, trying to see something – anything – and yet all her eyes could make out was resounding, deafening darkness. She reached out with the Force, and felt… _nothing._ The room itself was devoid of any life, of any history, of any element, of _anything…_

 _How is that possible?_ Rey thought.

"The Supreme Leader makes all possible," Ren answered her mechanically, and Rey was struck with such an unexpected sense of terror that she almost cried out.

And then her body went numb.

The tingling spread over her as if an egg had been cracked against the crown of her head; it slowly seeped over her shoulders, slithered through her arms, crept across her torso and trickled down her legs.

"Stop it," she said, almost pleadingly. She clumsily turned to look at Ren, her head weighing a ton, her neck rubbery and unsteady.

He remained silent, staring unmoved through the entrance. Waiting.

"Ren…"

"Quiet," he hissed threateningly.

Panic began to rise in her throat as Rey felt herself beginning to feel faint. Her eyesight was blurred and constricted. She panted. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, under her arms, on the back of her neck. She became unsteady on her feet and braced herself in case she hit the floor. Out of the corner of her eyes, she thought she could see Ren turn toward her, his head cocked as if he were curious, intrigued…

Then: "Enter."

It was a low whisper, immense in power, high in demand. As disoriented and clouded as she felt, her sickness lessened as Rey was compelled immediately to walk through the entryway. She was astutely aware that as of that moment, her body and decisions were not her own.

As the blackness engulfed her, the numbness disappeared and her mind returned to her. But the cold hand of terror remained, angrily clutching and violently twisting her insides in her lower belly, unrelenting and unapologetic. She smelled acrid dampness and the tang of metal, and the room was somehow both stale and cold.

Rey squinted her eyes out of habit, but knew to let the Force do the seeing for her. She sensed Ren to her left, his unstable anger pulsating clearly. Fifty feet in front of her was a massive structure – what appeared to be a chair – made of smooth, old stone. Directly behind her was the doorless entryway, cast in a shallow eerie glow.

And then he appeared.

He was a gigantic hologram, hairless, scarred, as old as time and even more repulsive than she anticipated. Master Skywalker had imparted on her the importance of feeling a person with the Force instead of relying on first physical impressions. So against her best judgment, but trusting her master, she reached toward the ghastly figure with the Force –-

\- and was abruptly punched in the sternum by an invisible iron fist. She reeled backwards, coughing and gasping, bending over to catch her breath and steady her nerves. She hadn't seen it coming, hadn't even realized she had opened herself up to Snoke's defensive retaliation.

She was wrong.

"You know why you are here."

It wasn't a question; it was an open-ended statement, to which Rey felt absolutely no inclination responding. Regaining her composure despite the twinge that ached in her chest from the unforeseen blow, she slowly straightened her back. Set her jaw. Clenched her teeth. Released her fingers to lie limply at her sides. Breaths in through her nose, out through her mouth. Centering…centering the Force. Feeling it flow through her, from her toes to her knees, up to her belly, coursing through her chest and down her arms, leaching up her neck and into her head.

Calming her. Recalibrating her.

She reminded herself: _There is no emotion. There is peace._

"Peace is a lie. There is only passion."

Rey's eyes shot open. Snoke had entered her mind, and she _hadn't even known._

She could feel panic rising in her stomach, and the only thing she could think to do to keep the panic at bay was to continue with the memorized mantra learned under the tutelage of Luke Skywalker. It had always brought her calmness when she needed it most.

She closed her eyes again.

 _There is no ignorance. There is knowledge –_

"Enough."

And with that word, Rey was flung from her own mind – her train of thought gone, her center missing, she was a spinning object without an epicenter, careening unstable and unrestricted. She couldn't find herself. She couldn't meet her own mind. She screamed out, frightened and frustrated, her privacy and sanity completely debased. Her head exploded with pain as her body burned with powerful memories. Memories that elicited emotions she had spent months burying. These emotions were too dangerous - Master Skywalker referred to them as Dark Feelings – and they could encompass one's soul, devouring one's mindset until it was completely opaque.

 _She was screaming, pleading for the transport to come back. She could feel the rough insides of the AT-AT underneath her fingertips as she ran them along the slate-colored wall, covered in off-white markings meant to count the days since she was left. Counting the days until her family came back. To hold her. To love her. To rescue her. To save her from the core-wrenching loneliness she felt each day. She felt the arid dryness of Jakku fill her lungs, snuffing out her breath and her hope and her youth._

"Abandoned at such a young age. Against your will. What a pity," Snoke's mocking voice echoed in her mind.

Not _her_ mind. It wasn't _her_ mind anymore. She was an outsider looking in, a third party, without control or will or influence.

 _Her mouth filled with sand as the other scavenger pushed her face deeper and deeper into Kelvin Ridge. He sat on her back, straddling her, pinning her arms so she couldn't move. She could hear his counterpart rifling through what was rightfully hers, parsing out what was worth taking and what had no value. Stealing her salvage._ Her _salvage; her only hope to eat, after not being awarded more than a quarter portion over the past four days._

 _She screamed louder; they laughed harder._

"Starving, alone, bullied." Snoke's voice paused. "Weak."

 _She stood there, watching as Kylo Ren cut down Han Solo. Emotionless, callously, unsympathetic. She screamed, screamed so loudly and so violently she felt bile rise up in her throat. And even after the saber had pierced his heart, Solo's hand rose up to lovingly caress the cheek of his son, as if to tell him it was alright, it was forgiven…_

"Watching as Ren took away the only father you ever knew. Standing there. Helpless," sneered Snoke. "Were you not so feeble, perhaps Solo would be alive today."

A warm liquid flowed into her mouth, which she quickly identified as blood. She had been biting through her bottom lip. But she could feel no pain.

She could feel nothing.

Snoke spoke again.

"Your entire life has been beyond your control. You have been left behind. Hurt. Underestimated. Flung aside. Deemed useless."

Rey, suddenly in sync with her surroundings, realized her mind was coming back under her purview. She grabbed onto it, bringing it close, holding it away, secret and safe, from anyone and anything. From anybody. She felt it become one with her again. _Her_ mind. _Her_ memories. _Hers_.

"You deserve no sympathy. You did it to yourself. You were patient. You were kind. You were forgiving. You were hopeful. You were foolish. You were complacent. And you were _powerless."_

She was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down her brow. She vaguely realized she was hunched over, her hands on her knees. Ren was now behind her and off to her left, in the shadows. She could hear his breathing quicken, could feel his pulse pounding.

He knew what was coming.

And so did she.

"No," she heard herself growl.

She felt Ren stiffen, his breath catching in his throat.

Snoke chuckled, the short laughs reverberating off of the hard walls of the room and inundating Rey's ears, spirit, awareness.

There was nothing humorous about what he had said. But she knew as well as he did: every word, _every single word_ , was true.

A roar erupted from her soul, culminating in a scream from her mouth. Years of oppression, years of solitude, years of anguish, years of jealousy and yearning and simple alienation. She'd had enough of everything, of everyone…

…especially of Snoke.

Her body acted before her brain. Her legs locked underneath her shoulders, she peered upward at the grotesque Supreme Leader. Her face contorted with emotion.

"Enough!" she commanded.

The damage was instantaneous.

The perfect dark tile began to tremble and shift underneath her. She could sense Ren's alarm and immediately felt her own as the ground upheaved viciously, splitting in half. Beginning at her feet, the crevasse propelled forward, striking the structure upon which the projection of Snoke sat with such potency, the stone cracked and crumbled, severing the hologram connection and plummeting the room one again into darkness.

Rey could hear nothing but her own breathless gasping. Her mind raced but could not form cohesive thoughts. She had never felt power and shame coupled so closely within her own soul, and she wanted to laugh maniacally and sob hysterically.

She was in pain.

But she _enjoyed it._ It surged through her, burning her insides.

Purifying her.

"Are you happy?" she croaked to Ren, sounding less like a powerful Forcetress and exactly like a scavenger from Jakku. She could feel intense burning behind her eyes, refusing to blink in order to hedge off the trail of tears that would surely follow. She stared at her jagged fracture on the ground, listening to small dustings of the stone chair crumble to the once pristine floor.

She heard him approach her, stopping mere inches from her face. Rey was shocked to hear the _click-hiss_ as Ren removed his mask. Dragging her eyes away from her destructive creation, she looked up into his dark eyes. They were swimming with hundreds of emotions.

Shock.  
Uncertainty.  
Suspicion.  
Wariness.  
Remorse.  
Elation.

Fascination.

She searched his face for any semblance of emotion, and seconds later received it in the form of a smirk, the left side of his mouth curving upward despite himself. And she knew the answer before it left his lips.

" _Very."_

* * *

Author's Note: I am brand new to the Fanfiction world, and this is my first story. I truly hope you enjoyed. Please do not hesitate to leave reviews – whether wholly positive or constructively negative, both are exceptionally welcome and taken seriously. If you wish to PM me, it is equally as encouraged – happy to discuss anything and everything with all of you.

Thank you all so very, very much for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 _Nothing in the universe can travel as fast as light, they say, forgetful of the shadow's speed._

* * *

She couldn't remember the last time she had slept peacefully.

It was the same every night: collapsing into bed, sometimes still fully dressed, and falling into emptiness out of pure exhaustion. Then, in no time at all, she would startle awake, gasping for air, beaded with sweat, her anxiety creeping up her spine like a poisonous serpent.

Her nightmares were almost always about Ben. More recently, they were comprised solely of Han. Each began in blissful memory, each ended in aching agony.

Tonight, however, was completely different. And distinctly disquieting.

She needed to talk to Luke.

Throwing her hair up unceremoniously and donning the same robe she wore when nursing her newborn son, General Organa marched purposely through the empty hallways, long abandoned by an ancient civilization lost to the tales of history. The rough stone had smoothed with the passage of time, the dim lighting illuminating the soothing gold specks of clay speckled within each brick.

The massive fort was shaped like a wishbone; the living quarters on the left spoke and the training and convening rooms on the right spoke, with the command center located on the shared branch. Knowing exactly where to find her brother, the general took the main staircase up three flights, quietly pushing open the heavy stone door and stepping out onto the roof.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, the crispness of the snow-capped mountains taking her back to her childhood, to Alderaan. It brought her warmth, comfort – two scarce emotions, both of which she had forgotten how to enjoy. Almost.

"Did you see her? In your vision." Luke's voice rang out from her right. She opened her eyes and locked onto her brother's hooded figure. His back was to her as he looked out over the craggy foothills, but she could tell his shoulders were hunched and his soul was troubled.

"I saw her. And I saw him," she responded.

She saw him nod somberly, still facing away from her. "She's…precocious."

General Organa nodded and shrugged. "Of course she is. Look at her lineage."

Luke shook his head. "It's more than that. This is surprising, even for her."

"Yes, well, when we're left to fend for ourselves because no one else has the strength or nerve to, women tend to be full of the biggest surprises for the rest of you." She cringed inwardly. That sounded much harsher than she had intended. But she stood by each word she uttered.

Luke lowered his head. "Your resentment is clear and just."

Suddenly, she was overcome with emotion, and she simply couldn't contain it anymore. "Dammit, Luke, I don't need _anyone_ to tell me that my feelings are legitimate and true, least of all _you_. Ben was why I smiled and laughed and lived and breathed. The day he was born I swore that I would dedicate my life to ensuring the moral and ethical governance of this galaxy, knowing without a doubt he would be by my side, fighting to realize this cause. He was my _reason,_ Luke, my _reason._ Then my son – _my son –_ fell to hatred. And as I tore my bleeding heart off of the ground, I turned around and had _no one._ My husband cut and run and quickly as he could, and my brother – _my brother –_ disappeared to the outermost rim of the galaxy as if he were some runaway, starry-eyed child, requiring me, with my soul still in pieces and mourning for my family, to go traipsing across the universe in search for him."

Her eyes were fire and her tongue was sharp. "So don't you dare use your supposedly worldly wisdom to condescend to me."

She saw her brother physically wince, the pain evident as his shoulders hunched even further forward, as if trying to protect his ears from additional vicious verbal blows.

She sighed. General Organa didn't share her emotions; it didn't come easily, and she didn't like the accompanying inevitable consequence of vulnerability. But when she did, it was because she had an unquestionable, undying, passionate love for the receiver. No matter of tone, accusation or wording could ever lead either of them to, even for one second, question that they both loved each other deeply.

Heavy silence followed for what seemed to be a very long time. Neither sibling spoke, neither moved, neither conceded and neither attacked. They stood, in pure equilibrium, allowing the fresh emotional scars, while still smarting, to scab over with fresh skin. To be reminded of what had been said, but to begin anew.

He spoke first. "She'll turn."

The general nodded. "I know." She paused, watching the dawn break, a wispy breeze and gentle mist tickling her face. "But it'll be different."

Luke turned to face his sister for the first time in the daylight. His blue eyes shone brightly under his simple brown hood, a boyish contrast to his tired and line-drawn face. General Organa found herself suddenly overwhelmed with love and sympathy for her brother. Moving quickly, she threw her arms around his shoulders, feeling his strong arms circle her waist. She squeezed him tightly, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. In that moment she swore to herself that after losing her husband and most likely her son, she would die before anyone took Luke away from her.

" _Everything_ will be different," he said, still holding his sister close.

She opened her eyes, staring over Luke's shoulder as the sun rose completely in the sky, no longer blocked by the icily peaceful mountains. "Everything already is," she responded quietly.

….

Finn hadn't stopped fuming since he found out there would be no reconnaissance mission or attempt to rescue Rey.

He hadn't slept for days, found food repulsive, and wanted to rip the head off of anyone who came near him and asked him if he were okay or recommended that maybe he should go to the medical bay to get a physical or questioned why didn't he trust General Organa because she knew what was best in apparently every situation that ever happened.

 _Bullshit,_ he sneered angrily to himself. These people weren't who he thought they were.

His only saving grace had been Poe, although as of right now, Finn thought even he deserved a punch in the face. The pilot sat on a stone bench in the convening room, eating an apple, eyebrow cocked, watching Finn closely as he paced back and forth in between the rows of the auditorium.

 _Crunch._

"How's the apple?" Finn asked, pointedly annoyed. On top of everything, he hated hearing people chew their food. And Poe was _the worst_ with this.

 _Crunch._

"Crunchy," Poe said with a full mouth, grinning like a kid.

"Lovely," retorted Finn.

 _Crunch._

"Buddy, are you ever going to stop?"

Still pacing, scowl firmly etched across his face, Finn looked at Poe. "Stop what?"

 _Crunch._

"Walking back and forth like that. It's making me nervous."

"Well you know what makes me nervous? I'll tell you what makes me nervous," Finn snapped, pausing momentarily to face Poe, who was still happily chomping on that goddamn apple.

"It's this apple, isn't it? This apple is making you nervous."

Finn ignored Poe's snarky comedic comment. "Your friends. This whole… _thing,"_ he gestured grandly, flailing his arms uncoordinatedly. He mentally blamed it on the lack of sleep. "The Resistance, or whatever you call yourselves."

Poe's boyish smile wilted, the playful light from his eyes dimming and disappearing as he stood up, tossing the apple to the ground. "Finn, buddy…watch yourself."

"You call yourselves different from the First Order, and yet when one of you gets abducted by that…that _thing,_ all you do is shrug your shoulders and go, 'Oh, well, that sucks. We'll really miss her. We'd love to go help her out and all, but oh look, we have too many other priorities on our daily To-Do List."

Finn huffed and crossed his arms, finally sitting down where Poe had been moments before. He stared at the ground, kicking the rocky dirt with his right foot to cover his left boot. It was habit, one he'd had since childhood, when he was consigned to life as a Stormtrooper.

And, if you asked Poe, it was a clear indication that he was majorly sulking.

Finn didn't bother looking up as his friend sat down next to him and sighed. He could tell Poe was weighing his responses, choosing his words carefully. Finn appreciated it…especially since he knew he had struck Poe's ultimate nerve by questioning the Resistance and its loyalty to its fighters.

"I know you care for her, Finn."

 _Well_ that's _the understatement of the millennium,_ thought Finn wistfully. But he remained silent and stone-faced.

Poe continued. "We all do. And if you're questioning General Organa's devotion to us – to me – then all of those years spent in those tiny white, shiny helmets must've scrambled your brain." He paused in an attempt to stay on target, biting the inside of his lip as he contemplated what to say next. "You know how long I've been with the Resistance. You know what it means to me. I've told you stories…how it saved me, made me who I am today. I owe my life to the Resistance…" he trailed off. "My point is that sometimes, you can't question. Sometimes, you have to have faith."

"Yeah," Finn grumbled. His left boot was almost completely covered in dirt. Just a couple more swipes with his right boot, and –

Poe reached out and grabbed Finn's shoulder. Surprised, he immediately stopped playing with the dirt and looked up into the pilot's kind face. Poe's grin was still absent, but the light had seeped back into his eyes. "You know I care about you, and I know you care about me. And I am asking you, as your favorite friend, to please, please trust us."

Finn looked back down at his boot, the once shiny brown leather dulled and soiled. He reached down and brushed off the mound of earth until the leather shone a bit brighter. It would need a good polishing, but he knew from experience the grimy marks wouldn't be permanent.

He looked back up at Poe and nodded. "Okay, favorite friend. I trust you…all of you."

Poe grinned wider than he had in months, and despite his best efforts, Finn was unable to prevent himself from smiling back.

The pilot stood up, extending a hand to Finn, who took it. They gripped tightly, looking at each other, a silent understanding between them. Poe released his grasp first, and with a short chortle, clapped Finn on the back. "Excellent. Now: let's go find me another apple."

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you to all who have read so far, with a special shout out to Muchadoaboutnada for being the first – and only – reviewer! I truly hope you all are enjoying, and I encourage you all to please leave me reviews; what can I do better? What am I doing great? Where would you like to see the direction of this story go? Is my characterization on point, or do I have some work to do? I'd love to hear from all of you about these questions and more.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

 _Permanence at rest, and permanence in motion, are both active participants in the power that remains._

* * *

Pleased wasn't quite the right word for it. Neither was satisfied – satisfaction implied simply meeting expectations, and she had far exceeded them.

Even Snoke couldn't conceal his delight. He could sense the Supreme Leader's elation, rippling the Force excitedly, as he spoke to him shortly after returning Rey to her holding cell. Waves of distortion wreaked havoc on his image and sound as Ren stood before him; the techs had quickly deemed the holoprojector damaged beyond repair and in need of replacement. But it would have to do, for the time being.

"She is most impressive." Snoke spoke with approval, but Ren could sense the underlying hesitation in his voice. The image flickered violently as he leaned toward Ren, his hands tightening their grasp upon on the armrests of the chair. "She will need a great deal of training from a powerful master. I would like to think you are up for the task."

Ren stiffened, nodding his head respectfully. "I know I am ready. The completion of my training under your tutelage allows me to guide her in the Dark Practices of the Force. It would be my honor."

Snoke's posture relaxed as he leaned back in his chair, apparently content with Ren's answer. "Good. Then you will begin with her… _promptly._ "

"Yes, Supreme Leader." Genuflecting dutifully, Ren stood and turned on his heel to leave the Great Hall.

"Kylo Ren."

Surprised, he spun to see Snoke's image standing, towering over him and peering down perceptively. "You will remember what made Vader weak."

Ren curtly nodded. "Compassion."

"Yes…yes. Compassion. Compassion… _for those he loved._ "

Pause.

"You will do wise to remember that." It was an exceptionally pointed statement.

Seemingly perplexed, Ren cocked his masked face. "Yes, Supreme Leader…?"

"Good."

Bowing his head and turning once more, his quick footsteps sounding more hurried than usual, Snoke's final urging would cause Ren countless sleepless nights and boundless restless days over the next year:

"Do _not_ fail me."

….

The vast darkness of space had always brought Kylo Ren deep absolution. Even as a little boy, riding in the _Millennium Falcon_ with his father, a half an hour of watching the streaks of light dance across the cockpit visor would set him to sleep for hours at a time.

 _"He's got your interest in piloting,"_ he remembered Solo joking with his mother. _"Kid helped me for ten minutes and slept for three hours."_

But as Ren watched millions of star systems streak by outside of the floor-to-ceiling window in his living quarters, he felt no release, no forgiveness. Not now, not after the heavily baleful observations Snoke had hurled at him earlier that day. About how _wise_ it would be to _remember_ that Vader's ultimate undoing came at the hand of benevolent empathy for family. _For those he loved,_ were his exact words.

Ren had exuded confusion, clouding his mind and conveying a genuine inability to grasp whatever the Supreme Leader was actively attempting to imply. Over the years, Ren had mastered the ability to remain calm, cool and collected whenever public occasions necessitated it. Perhaps it was why he was so violently destructive in private; the throbbing unbalance never withered under his constantly stoic veneer.

The simple fact was that Ren knew precisely why Snoke specifically mentioned Vader's downfall when it came to _family_ , when it came to _those he loved_. Snoke had always known Ren would fight and die for the Dark Practice; after he murdered Han Solo, Ren sensed that Snoke now knew beyond reproach that his loyalty was unshakeable. For Ren, without question, the First Order came before all else. Even family…especially _his_ family.

All of this considered, he knew that the "loved ones" Snoke was referring to had nothing to do with the Skywalkers or the Solos. It had nothing to do with family.

Ren snorted audibly. _Those he loved_ , he thought distastefully _._ He hadn't loved anybody in a very long time, and he had certainly never been _in_ love. Romance was for the weak, the idle, the misguided and the unfocused. Childish romance embodied the weaknesses of Anakin Skywalker; resolute disassociation defined the triumphant legacies of Darth Vader.

Snoke was a creature of few words, and Ren learned from the very beginning – usually the hard way – that because of this, it was best to pay exceedingly close attention to the words he _did_ use. So despite the years it had taken him to snuff out emotional attachments and despite the feigned puzzlement, Ren knew precisely whom the "loved one" was that Snoke had so emphatically referred to.

Rey.

But what Ren felt for Rey wasn't love, and to label it as such was a gross misnomer. No, it was…different than that. Much different, but nearly impossible for him to explain...

The desperate pounding on the door of his quarters lurched him from thought. Automatically, Ren reached for his mask, his brow furrowed as he warily wondered what could have necessitated such an interruption. In moments he was at the entrance, and to his surprise, he opened the door into the profoundly panic-stricken face of General Hux.

Hux's presence was a constant thorn in Ren's side, and he had to give himself credit for being able to keep his utter disdain for the man in check as well as he did. Self-important to an almost comedic degree, the general's favorite pastime, in addition to transgressing the bounds of his job description, was stepping on Ren's toes as hard and often as possible.

For the many, countless, _inestimable_ culpabilities this man had, his greatest strength was, like Ren's, remaining composed in the most worrying of situations. In fact, Ren had never seen Hux's face convey much more than mild agitation at any point.

At this moment, however, Hux stood before him breathless, eyes large and face utterly unhinged. He looked…scared.

And it completely and utterly unnerved Ren.

Ren reached out with the Force, tendrils culling through Hux's brain to harvest any information he could. He flung aside the heavy clouds of anxiety and fear that saturated his mind, digging for something…anything…

 _There it was._

No. _No._ NO!

Without uttering a word, Ren took off at a dead run down the corridor, and he could hear the _click-clack_ of Hux's boots distantly in pursuit. _This can't be happening,_ he brain screamed. _It can't be, it wasn't foreseen, it doesn't end like this._

As he passed stunned Stormtroopers, officers and personnel – none of whom had seen Kylo Ren run so fast or so desperately – he felt himself grow more despondent by the second. _Goddammit, is this the longest fucking hallway in the universe?!_ he thought angrily. Rounding a corner, he sped up to full tilt, with help from the Force, as soon as he saw the Holding Block hangar.

"Out of the way," he snarled as he emphatically Force-pushed past the psytechs, physicians and security personnel gathered outside of Cell 0418. Door already open, Ren stepped inside the claustrophobic room. Squinting beneath his mask in the harsh brightness of the interrogation lighting, he saw her lying on the padded bench in the corner.

She wasn't moving.

He was at her side in two strides, and his jaw set as he looked down at her: chest still, lips blue, one arm askew above her head, the other hanging limply off of the bench.

 _Snap-hiss._

He hated removing his mask in public, but getting a closer look at Rey would be the only way he would be able to tell if she were dead and, if she were, what had killed her. Setting his mask at her feet, he knelt down next to her, narrowing his eyes, breathing deeply, his face inches from hers.

"Move aside, _move aside!"_ Hux screamed through labored breaths as he entered the room. Panting and sweating, the general approached cautiously, wondering to himself what the hell Ren was doing. "Is she dead?" he anxiously asked.

Ren didn't respond. Instead, he closed his eyes, inching even closer; so close, his lips almost brushed against her forehead. He reached out with the Force, searching…

…and was startled when he heard it. Beating faintly but unmistakably, pulsating slowly but firmly in his ears. As his own pulse synced, he opened his eyes. "Clever," he whispered closely in her ear, unable to hide his amusement. Once again, this girl had impressed him.

"Well?! Is she or isn't she?!" Hux roared, clearly still quite panicked.

Ren stood up resolutely, reaching for and donning his mask before turning around to face the general. "Tsk, tsk, General Hux. Patience, as we have been told, is a virtue."

Hux looked as if his head was about to explode, and Ren was highly entertained when he sensed that the general spent several seconds conducting an internal Cost-Benefit Analysis on lunging at him for being so coy at such a time. Luckily for Hux, his analysis was accurate, so the general quietly rumbled, "I am in no mood for games, Ren. Is the girl alive or do we have some unfortunate news to deliver to the Supreme Leader?"

Ren turned to look at Rey again, and smiled behind his mask. This girl was _good._

"No unfortunate news today, general. The girl is just fine."

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you to all of my glorious readers! Whether actively reviewing, favoriting, or enjoying from afar, you have made this experience an absolute delight! Just FYI: for your reading pleasure, I have mapped out my updating schedule. It appears that I will be doing so every day or, at the very latest, every other day. So stay tuned, and thank you all so very much again. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

 _Until we see her darkness, we can never truly know her._

* * *

 _It was cold and wet the day Master Skywalker taught her about the Hibernation Trance. The low-hanging clouds were heavy with moisture, billowing wisps of white floating only a few hundred feet above their heads on the stony, somber island on Ach-To. She sat cross-legged on the damp ground, hunched and shivering against the brisk wind, wishing that for once, her master would build a fire to at least minimally shield her from the harsh elements._

 _No such luck. As Master Skywalker stood in front of her, she gave out another involuntary shudder. She knew he saw it, but he did nothing to acknowledge it. Annoyed, she let out a breathy sigh; he didn't acknowledge that, either._

 _"Jedi Hibernation allows the individual employing this tactic to slow his or her bodily functions to a near standstill," he began, without preface. "Metabolism, breathing, pulse; all become measured and deliberate and remain in that state until the Jedi mindfully emerges."_

 _Rey blinked. He couldn't be serious. She looked up into his bright, kind eyes, and saw a sparkle emerge in them as he smiled gently. "I wouldn't believe it either."_

 _Rey regained her composure and sat up a bit straighter, clearing her throat. "Sorry…it just seems…"_

 _"Far-fetched?" he offered._

 _"…a bit."_

 _"What part of the Force does not seem excessively far-fetched to one who knows nothing of it?"_

 _Rey assessed that statement as wholly true and exceedingly fair. "How long can one remain in hibernation?"_

 _"It's difficult to articulate the exact amount of time. There are many external elements that come into play: the climate of the surrounding environment, for example. Most important, however, are the physical, mental and emotional conditions of the Jedi in hibernation." He paused. "It can be dangerous, if not done properly."_

 _"Dangerous?" Rey asked, eyebrow cocked. "But if the Jedi is in control –"_

 _"The biggest mistake a Jedi can ever make is to fall victim to falsely believing he or she is solely in control of anything," Master Skywalker snapped._

 _His out of character response caused Rey to lose her sense of self and look up at him, mouth slightly agape. She noted his face had gone dark; the brightness of his eyes was gone, and the lines on his face were now cast in shadow. His jaw jutted forward angularly, which set his lips into a grim line. He was glaring at her, and she could feel the force fracture menacingly around her._

 _"I'm sorry if I overstepped," she said quietly, barely above a whisper. Though she wasn't entirely sure what exactly she was apologizing for._

 _The Jedi Master closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, and she could feel the Force swirling around him, re-centering and mending itself into the light and fluid energy she had grown to find so comforting._

 _"No, I'm sorry," he uttered genuinely, as he opened his eyes, and she was relieved to see that the kind sparkle had returned. As the momentary discord had passed, Master Skywalker continued, answering Rey's question, "If one is physically injured, it is possible to slip into hibernation in order to allow the body to heal itself; similarly, if one is unable to survive the surrounding environment, either hot or cold, the suspension of being allows the individual to pull the Force around the body, to act as a shield."_

 _Rey nodded, biting her inner lip as she thought of how to word her next question. "How is this dangerous?"_

 _"The peril of hibernation does not lie within utilizing it for physical protection."_

 _Rey nodded slowly, squinting her eyes down at the ground in comprehension. "It's when one uses it for mental and emotional protection."_

 _The Jedi nodded. "Precisely."_

 _Neither spoke for quite some time. She mulled over what Master Skywalker had said, trying to put the pieces together, to put words to why it all made sense. She wanted to ask for clarification, especially considering she was only a few months into her training, and this technique seemed immensely advanced for a Padawan of her experience._

 _"So…" she cleared her throat in order to speak above the increasingly strong wind that nipped at her the tips of her nose and the tops of her ears. "Jedi Hibernation can protect me from bodily harm, helping me to funnel the Force toward healing severe wounds, and can enable me to survive otherwise life-threatening conditions, such as extreme heat or cold." Rey chewed the inside of her lip again, her brow furrowed in focus. "And it can also help to suspend my mind, should it be at the brink of brokenness or corruption."_

 _"Yes."_

 _"But, if I decide to hibernate to protect my mind, my feelings..." She stuttered, not being able to articulate what she knew to be true. "…then…then…I can either be successful and regenerate my mental strength, or…or I can unknowingly succumb to exactly what I had been trying to overcome."_

 _"Yes."_

 _She looked up him again, doe-eyed and a bit fearful. "I could lose control of my emotions by trying to preserve them. I could…I could be influenced, controlled."_

 _"Yes," he said again. As she grappled with a sense of overwhelming foreboding that seemed both out of place but ominously imminent, Master Skywalker continued, "And if done in the presence of one with whom you share a connection, especially a Force Bond, it can ruin you."_

 _"What?" she asked, almost inaudibly._

 _His muted reply matched her own. "It can turn you to the Dark Side."_

 _The wind had become deafening, and as Rey looked up into the sky, she noticed that a strong storm had quickly encapsulated the island. Pellets of purple rain began to fall from the sky, stinging her face as they unmercifully splattered against her body, leaving raw, tender marks._

 _Rey stood up quickly as she and her master moved quickly inside. Her mind was tired, her body icy and achy. The sinister and menacing distress was still gnawing at her insides, seeming to grow hungrier as the seconds passed._

 _She knew what that meant, so she needed to ask the question. "Master, how will I know if it's the right decision to use it?"_

 _Master Skywalker glanced at her, and she saw a knowing sadness behind his eyes that all but confirmed her fears._

 _"You just…will."_

…..

It was a strange feeling, being suspended in nothingness.

But what Rey relished most was the detachment, and she reveled in the blissful knowledge that at that moment, nobody could reach her. Or talk to her.

Or hurt her.

The hurt that bombarded her soul had almost become a part of her over the past few weeks she had spent in captivity. Locked up like a societal menace in the harshly bright holding cell, she had lost track of time, which had caused her anxiety to escalate to the point where she had nervously bitten the inside of her lip so raw, she needed a medical droid to administer a painful shot filled with some First Order disinfectant to prevent it from festering. She had chewed all of her nails down to the nubs and had refused food for so many days straight that her frame, which had always been slight and firm, was now emaciated and bony. She didn't have the luxury of a mirror, but had she access to one, she probably wouldn't dare look in it anyway; her weight loss had caused her old clothing to no longer fit, and she had been instructed to remove her gray Padawan attire in exchanged for an exact replica of what her daily wardrobe was on Jakku – except, of course, instead of white, the entire ensemble was black.

She was sure Kylo Ren got a kick out of it.

And when she wasn't mindlessly pulling at her dark clothing out of disgust, or refusing her meals, or biting her nails, or infecting her mouth with her nervous chewing, she found herself being constantly bombarded by the presence of Ren.

Their conversations had been mostly mindless. Mocking her for pursuing the Light and constantly asking and assessing what she remembered of her childhood, her home, her family.

"You said you can take what you want," she muttered to him between her gritted teeth. "So why don't you just take it so you can _leave me be_?"

He smiled that obnoxiously smug knowing half-smile, his lips soft but his words hard. "It's more fun to play with you."

She turned around to face him, her eyes narrow. "Or maybe it's because you know you can't take anything from me, without me taking something from you."

It was a challenge. And it wiped that smirk off of his young face.

She hated him.

But it was a different kind of hate.

It wasn't the hate that made her sick after watching him murder Han Solo. It wasn't the hate she felt burning inside her bones when she saw him almost kill Finn. It wasn't the distaste she had for him after hearing about who he was as Ben Solo, Han and Leia's son, from Luke Skywalker.

This hate ran deeper. It was a hate that she knew was mutual, a hate that was connected, a hate that, as much as she didn't want to admit, was laced with a sense of intrigue.

She had come to view him as her competition; for what, exactly, she had no idea. It sounded preposterous, but as his visits became more frequent and scheduled, she began to almost _look forward_ to them. She _looked forward_ to the challenge, to the opportunity to outwit and outmatch him _at his own game,_ the way she had on Starkiller Base. She _looked forward_ to the chance to once again leave her mark, the way she had so adeptly left him scarred, leaving a permanent wound on his otherwise dark and handsome face.

She had felt herself yearning for the chance to prove to Ren that she was superior. Stronger with the Force. More talented with a lightsaber. Smarter than his witty banter. More intelligent than the games he played with her mind. It was the lust for greatness, for _power_ over Ren, that had caused her to unleash whatever dark powers she had in her soul in front of Snoke, splitting his throne and making Ren "very" happy.

It made her realize that she hadn't had the upper hand; those conversations, her retorts, the times she had bested him were all calculated attempts on his behalf to render her exactly where she was: angry, shameless, competitive and power-hungry.

He had been winning all along.

It was a realization that smacked her psyche so hard she felt dizzy. She had vomited and began screaming and clawing at the walls of her cell, shaking so violently that the psytechs were called to forcefully administer her anti-anxiety medication. And while the meds helped take the edge off of her agony, her depression spiraled so out of control that Kylo Ren himself had heard of it and marched into her cell.

He took one look at her – hair completely down and matted, eyes wide and glazed, streaks of blood across her face and hands from tearing at the jagged walls – and he had immediately removed his mask, letting it fall to the ground with a loud _thunk._

Rey was momentarily pulled from her stupor when she realized the expression that had crossed Ren's face. Was that… _compassion_?

"Come here," he said, holding out his hand. She flinched automatically, expecting him to either forcefully compel her toward him or to feel his presence in her mind. She opened her eyes when she felt neither. He was simply holding out his hand toward her.

And she began laughing; in actuality, it was more akin to high-pitched shrieking.

And that was when Ren had swooped over to her, holding her close around her waist with one arm, as he placed his right hand on her forehead and…

…and the _warmth. The genuine warmth she had felt_. It came over her as the numbness had before she had been presented to Snoke…but it was different. Gentle. Honest. Calming.

She felt him slowly release his arm around her waist and remove his hand from her forehead. She looked up at him, her mind clearer than it had been in weeks, and she saw softness in his eyes.

As if suddenly shot with a blaster, he pushed himself away from her altogether, and she saw the hardness return to his brown eyes. He picked up his mask, placed it back over his freckled face, and said mechanically, "Clean yourself up," before storming out of her cell, leaving her standing alone, utterly confused.

It was after she had cleaned herself up – taking a shower in the Holding Block common bathroom and receiving a new black tunic and legging ensemble – when she remembered that particular conversation with Master Skywalker about Jedi Hibernation. And she had no doubt that it was her only hope of surviving this place, of saving herself.

She had never been surer of anything in her life.

And so, here she was. In hibernation.

Floating. In nothingness. Alone.

 _"Alone?"_

Her consciousness jumped as she heard his voice, clear as day, red terror bleeding into the once-saturated black surrounding her.

 _"What kind of host would I be if I left my guest all alone?"_

* * *

Author's Note: I cannot express my gratitude enough to each and every one of you who have reviewed, followed and favorited this story. I am truly flattered and even more excited that you are enjoy it so far!

I have a rough outline of where I am taking this story, but any input from all of you – whether through PM or reviews – will absolutely help to guide me in the direction that will make it the best it can be. 3


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

 _You would be wise to let the darkness cradle your light._

* * *

Kylo Ren still donned his amused grin beneath his dark mask as he surveyed the seemingly dead body of Rey. The Supreme Leader, of course, had been spot on: she was a force to be reckoned with. He also begrudgingly had to credit Skywalker for foreknowing the skills to teach her in order to stave off the inevitability of her darkness. The old man knew she would break, Ren thought, and so he provided her with techniques far beyond the beyond basic training of which he had expected her to be knowledgeable.

The Jedi knew more than he gave him credit for, now that he thought about it. Skywalker had known it was only a matter of time before Ren saw his chance and took it, only a matter of time before he took Rey.

Ren had come to know her mind well enough to anticipate her mood swings. Mornings and afternoons were the happiest for her; training with Skywalker on the craggy outcroppings of the island, learning to hold her breath for tens of minutes at a time under the frigid waves, accepting the Force into her body, feeling its warm energy flow through her blood, encouraging her.

It was when the sun disappeared, setting over the picturesque water, that she was alone with her thoughts. And that when she was the most vulnerable.

He felt the veritable shift of her emotions, from light, hopeful and airy to isolated, uncertain and frustrated. She was contradicted, both questioning her talents and prideful of them. Most of all, however, she… _missed_.

She missed her simplistic life on Jakku. Her non-existent family. Above all, she missed her friends. Especially FN-2187.

He sneered behind his mask, remembering the pathetic traitor he had slashed in two, the one who had dared use Skywalker's lightsaber, _his lightsaber_. And in his anger and his haste to get to Rey, he had left the weakling bleeding on the pure snow, failing to snuff him out like the worthless trash he was.

Another day, another failure.

But he wouldn't fail at this.

While Skywalker was asleep, late at night, Ren would creep into her thoughts, creating waves of longing to be reunited with FN-2187 and the other Resistance garbage with which she associated. He tapped into her deepest urge: the urge to have others, a family, the utter desperation she had to _not be alone._

It took months of subtle probing, entering her mind so softly that neither she nor Skywalker had any idea he was doing so. Every night planting seeds, and every day watering them. And one night, after a particularly challenging week of training in the cold, windy, watery desert of Ach-To, those seeds sprouted darkly.

She did exactly what he wanted her to: she left Ach-To. Secretly, without Skywalker's knowledge. She needed to be with her friends again, and in a childish state of glee, she decided to surprise them; she hadn't notified the Resistance about her departure, either. He had felt the elated pride in her throat as she raised Skywalker's shuttle from the depths of the ocean, hovering it just above the waterline as she swam out and climbed on board, piloting it away from that forsaken star system and toward D'Qar.

At Ren's direction, _The Finalizer_ had intercepted the transport a mere two hours later, forcing it out of lightspeed on its way to the Resistance base. As if her emotions were his own, Ren felt the absolute anger rise in her core, frothing and threatening to boil over as the tractor beam took hold of her shuttle. The power she emanated at that moment, in her total fury, sent chills across Ren's entire body. It was magnificent.

General Hux had barked orders to the deck crew, and Ren had stalked off to the docking bay as the shuttle slunk closer and closer to _The Finalizer_. Captain Phasma met him at the entrance to the bay, asking what his preference was for boarding the wayward transport.

"I shall handle this myself, Captain," he said coolly, striding toward the transport.

"Very good, sir. We shall remain in ready formation just outside," she responded.

The shuttle's entry ramp had suddenly descended without prompt, and Ren was pleasantly surprised to see Rey standing at the top of it. Her cheeks were flushed in her anger, her bland gray Padawan garb hugging her slight frame. He noted her utility belt and the lightsaber that hung from it. It was Skywalker's.

"Welcome back."

She didn't respond, and Ren continued, "If you don't walk down here by yourself, I will have to come and retrieve you."

She hesitated briefly, ultimately deciding to descend the ramp without incident. He could feel her internal struggle; she was actively fantasizing about cutting him down where he stood, in front of half of what remained of the First Order, just to make a point. Just to show him that, in her mind, everybody deserves to reap what they sow.

He was more than moderately disappointed when she chose not to ignite her lightsaber and engage him. It would have made her transition a lot easier. Then again, it seemed this girl _lived_ to make his life anything but easy.

Rey stopped just beyond arm's reach. Grasping at her waist, she removed the lightsaber, holding it out to him. He had narrowed his shielded eyes, wondering if the weapon would come to him if he were to will it, or if it would still evade him.

As if she read his thoughts, Rey said sharply, "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot." She walked right up to him, her face inches away from his chest, and looked up into his mask with fire in her eyes. She placed the lightsaber in his left hand harshly. "I should've remembered that it doesn't come to you when called."

He saw a flash of red and instantly, her neck was cupped in his right hand. His grasp was as gentle as a feather's weight, but her knees immediately buckled and her hands reactively flew up to grasp his wrist in her desperate attempt to alleviate any of the pressure crushing her airway.

"Skywalker may enjoy your snarky, disrespectful remarks, but I do not. I suggest you remember that." He released her throat both with his mind and his hand, and she gasped, regaining her composure and her access to oxygen. "Unless you have anything else to add, I will show you to your holding cell."

She had followed him silently, sulking, to Cell 0418. He stepped aside as the door opened, and her eyes squinted against the harsh manufactured lighting, her nose tingling as her nostrils filled with the chemical antiseptic used to clean the room, eradicating any evidence that there had once been another unfortunate soul inhabiting those four small, jagged, unforgiving walls.

He gestured toward the room, and her hazel eyes flickered his way, starting at his chest and rising to his mask. Her glare was menacing, but he could see distinct panic behind her brave façade. He could feel her pulse race and could almost hear the ringing in her ears. He was caging an animal who had been in captivity too long, one who would do anything for freedom, for control of her own life.

This is what would break her.

And break she did.

The evening after he had presented her to Snoke, the Lieutenant in charge of the Holding Bay had sent word that Rey, who had been refusing food for almost two weeks, had also required medical attention for an open sore in her mouth and was now vomiting and _clawing at the walls_ , growling inhumanely and yelling out. He'd assumed that there had been a little embellishment on Lieutenant Aila's part, but thought it prudent to assess the situation himself.

Thinking back on it now, Ren uncomfortably remembered the feeling in his chest as he walked into her cell and gazed upon someone unrecognizable. She looked like a ghost, a sheen on her pallid skin, contrasting with the scarlet blood on her hands and face, from where she had actually been scraping the walls in an attempt to escape. His breath had caught in his throat and he removed his mask, needing to see with his own eyes how utterly unhinged Rey had become.

And, in that split second, he remembered his own mental break at the hands of Snoke. How he had screamed in agony for days in a dark, dank cell, how he had cursed his father and his mother and his uncle for torturing his soul, how he had felt abandoned and alone, and how the only thing that would alleviate the pain that poured from his bodily depths and radiated from his skin was taking his nails, which he had intentionally grown long, and digging them into his rib cage, drawing blood and bruising the tissue. And when the blood stopped running, he would pound the wound with his fist, relishing in the pain as it purified his body and his fractured mind.

He remembered how he became this way. And now he was doing it to her.

And in an instant, before thinking, he held out his hand and beckoned her toward him. His heart wrenched inside his chest as she flinched, expecting him to strike her or manipulate her body against her will. And then she did something that caused his brain to override any semblance of duty or dedication to the Dark Practices or the First Order.

She laughed. And it was the most awful sound he had ever heard.

It cut him to his core.

He had so much pain, so much _deep_ pain. He knew he and Rey were connected, and he couldn't stomach the thought of harboring her pain, too. In that moment, he was overcome with understanding and mercy, and thought of nothing else. Taking her by the waist, his palm heavy on her forehead, he funneled all of the warmth and comfort and peacefulness he could scrap together into her body.

Her wailing had ceased, and he felt her entire frail body ease in his arms. Her round, young eyes peered up at him, the glassy sheen gone. In that instant, she had come back to him. She was Rey again.

She was Rey again.

She was his enemy again.

Remembering himself and angrily cursing inwardly for letting the plight of this…this _girl_ …get the better of him, he pushed away from her and instructed her to tidy up her appearance. He grasped desperately for his mask, feeling the inner release as his emotions dissipated and his sense of inconsequential disassociation set in. His face was obscure, replaced by emotionless metal. He was in control again. He was a Dark Agent, a killer of Light and grandson of Darth Vader.

He turned around one last time to look at Rey Kenobi, granddaughter of Obi-Wan, and wondered what the hell he had gotten himself into.

…..

He anticipated that Hux, being the insufferable weasel he was, was the tattler who had informed the Supreme Leader of his uncharacteristically merciful reaction toward the despondent Rey. While the Supreme Leader was above mentioning informants by name, he knew that no other soul aboard _The Finalizer_ would dare to intentionally place him- or herself in the bad graces of Kylo Ren. Since Hux was fully aware that he was eternally in the worst of Ren's graces, he might as well go ahead and live up to expectations.

"Show me your face and explain yourself." His tone was the epitome of menacing.

Ren swallowed hard and removed his mask, cradling it under his arm as he looked up into the horrid face of Snoke. His mind raced with excuses, with reasons, with lies. None of them added up, and Ren could feel the seconds pass, and with each one, the Supreme Leader's patience wore thinner and thinner.

"I have none, Supreme Leader," he croaked.

Pause.

"You are a descendant of greatness, of Skywalkers. And yet you act like a _Solo_ ," sneered Snoke scathingly.

The disgrace shot through Ren like a lightning bolt.

"I haven't seen this much light in you in years, Kylo Ren."

"No, Supreme Leader. I have done all you asked, dedicated my life to you and the First Order and the Dark Practice…"

Ren trailed off as Snoke suddenly leaned forward on his throne, his image still flickering slightly as the new holoprojector settings hadn't yet been properly adjusted. "You would do anything for me."

"Yes," Ren said, stepping forward eagerly. "Anything."

"If I told you I wanted her dead, and I wanted you to be the one to do it, you would happily oblige me."

Ren knew his face told his leader otherwise, but he insisted, "Yes, I would kill her without protest. However, I would advise against it. She has proven herself to have the potential to be the worthiest of all allies, once she is turned. As a direct descendant of Kenobi – "

"Your objections and justifications give you away, Kylo Ren."

Defeated and uncovered, Ren remained silent. He looked down at the floor, feeling empty and lost. But when Snoke spoke, he provided Ren with the guidance he so desperately needed and craved. "You will get into her head, delve into her darkness, and rip it out from her body to display to her and the entire galaxy. You will do what it takes, and will dedicate whatever length of time is necessary. Solo was the first barrier that stood in your way to achieving total darkness. Rey is the second, most important barrier. Overcome her and make her your own, and darkness is yours."

Snoke's advice rung in Ren's ears as he stood above Rey in the holding cell, surveying her unconscious body like it was a work of truly remarkable art. He turned his head and said to Lieutenant Aila, "Leave, and shut the door behind you. I do not want to be disturbed unless by the Supreme Leader himself. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded, turning on her heel and activating the locking mechanism on the door with a _swoosh-thud._

Rey's body was sprawled unceremoniously on the hard, lumpy standard-issue cot. Removing his mask and placing it on an adjacent metal bench, he cocked his head to one side, thinking critically. Then, moving with delicate but deliberate purpose, he picked her up, her limp body draping over both of his arms, and gently set her on the floor. He unclasped his cape and hung it over the small window of the cell door, a two-by-two glass pane that personnel used to check on the condition of prisoners. He didn't need any curious observers.

He swiftly walked back toward Rey and sat down on the floor just behind her head, crossing his long but muscular legs in front of him. He felt a bit foolish, but this was the only way he had been taught how to do it. He carefully lifted her by the shoulders and placed her head into his lap. Her body was cold to the touch, but he could still feel the blood coursing through her veins, and he was both annoyed and curious that his pulse remained in sync with hers.

Arching his back and relaxing his shoulders, his head hanging low, he breathed deeply and placed both of his hands over her forehead, forming a diamond in between his index fingers and thumbs. He calmed his thoughts but kept his purpose at the forefront of his mind.

As he entered her suspended state, he could sense how thankful she was to be at peace. Away from him. Alone.

He grimaced angrily, thinking of the embarrassment she had caused him, resenting how she threatened his complete turn to the dark. Time to take away her comfort, as she had taken away his. It was time to make her vulnerable, as she had made him. He would take her for his own as the Supreme Leader had instructed.

As he made his presence known, he could feel her subconscious cower in terror. His chest expanded with a powerful sense of strength and ownership, and a smile passed his lips. Now, she was his.

And if he couldn't rule her, then he would ruin her.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you all for your response to this story. I hope this explains a bit more as to Kylo Ren's seemingly boiling-hot-and-then-freezing-cold responses to Rey, and I hope it delves into their strange but enticing dynamic.


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